Into the Unknown
by Babylawyer
Summary: Regina Mills cut out her mother ten years ago and hasn't seen her since, but when she finds out her mother is attending her best friend's destination wedding desperate times call for desperate measures and she finds herself asking the hot guy she keeps seeing in the elevator if he'd help her out. A fake dating fic inspired by the work of @CarolinaMR9
1. Chapter 1

She's a creature of habit, does the exact same thing every workday: wakes up, works out and makes herself look nice, then she wakes her grumpy son, makes them breakfast, takes him to the bus stop and tells him to have a good day before getting in the car for the ten minutes it takes her to get to her office. She arrives between 7:25 and 7:30 every day and usually gets in the elevator on her own, but not today.

No, today there is a handsome man (well, from what she can see anyway) standing there in a tailored, dark blue suit pressing the up button. He doesn't have to wait long at all for the elevator—you never do at this hour—and she finds herself asking, "Hold the door, please," as she enters, even though she could have easily gotten the next one.

She's intrigued by him, which is silly, because she's only seen the back view, which is quite nice, and she wants to know if his front matches his back. She wonders what he's doing here, if he just started or if he's worked here for years and she's never seen him, or if he's on a one-off visit.

"Not a problem," he says in a lovely British accent, as his arm shoots out to hold the door.

She smiles at him as she steps in with a thank you, her eyes lingering on him for longer than necessary, but my, is he ever attractive. Sandy hair and deep blue eyes, a bit of scruff and an endearing smile that widens to show off dimples that should be illegal on someone this good-looking, the fact that he's so well dressed only adds to the overall effect. It's rare she's this struck just by someone's looks, but it has happened before, though not in a long time. He's probably an asshole, the ones she's this attracted to right off the bat always are, but he did hold the door, so he can't be a complete jerk.

She presses the number six, and he reaches across her to hit eight, the future home to a new addictions organization she can't for the life of her remember the name of—there's a pamphlet for it sitting on her desk right now. She could ask, but then is it weird to chat with him in the elevator? She usually hates when people do that to her, so perhaps she should just admire silently. If he is involved in the organization like she suspects, their paths will cross again.

He catches her looking and smiles at her, flashing those gorgeous dimples again, and she looks down, willing her cheeks not to flush as she pretends she wasn't just staring at him.

"I'm Robin," he tells her, extending his hand out, and she shuffles her jacket onto her arm so she can grasp his hand.

"Regina Mills," she says, during the firm handshake, wishing she could remember the damn name of the place on eight so she could ask what he does there.

"You're on six, that's the sexual assault centre, right?" She nods right as the doors open to their entry and confirm it. She steps out as he offers, "Well, it was lovely to meet you, Regina."

"Likewise," she tells him with a smile, a stupid little wave as the doors shut. Though she'll probably never run into him again, she scours her desk for that pamphlet and commits the name _No Shame_ to memory.

As she prepares for the appointments she has today, her mind flits to the handsome elevator man, Robin, more than once before she forces herself to focus. She has work to do, has one of her hardest cases today, a client who has had such an incredibly traumatic life, who has slowly begun opening herself up. Regina's heart aches for her every time she reveals a little more of her history, it's hard to fathom living through it all, but she's a survivor, like everyone who comes through these doors. Regina knows many people think she's a hard ass, cold and seemingly detached, and she is in most instances but she has compassion and she genuinely cares about her clients. Her cool, nothing fazes her demeanour and her dark, dry humour are just part of what allows her to do what she does.

Growing up, Regina never wanted to be a therapist, never once considered it, but a series of events in her freshman year of college changed her life, leading her down a path to what she now knows she was meant to do.

It's hard work, and she gets frustrated, and disheartened, feels the weight of her client's traumas and burdens so heavily sometimes she wants to scream. Everyone has their own way of dealing with it. For her, it's a walk down the street with blared music, watching old clips of her son being silly, or a quick meditation. She's pretty good at shaking it off, but occasionally something will hit hard and she will find herself struggling even with her normal tools. Desensitized is not quite the right word for her normal state because she does care—you have to to do the job well—but the shock and horror of the suffering humans can inflict on each other doesn't affect her in the same way it did when she started out. Even then, she was never one to end up crying over the unfairness of it, no, when it gets to her, she gets mad, fucking livid, and her coworkers know to stay the hell away from her when she's like that. She's snapped at more than one of them before on a bad day.

Today turns out to be one of those days. She knew it was going to be a hard day as scheduled, but they'd also had someone in crisis, and she ended up working through with no break. By the end of the day, she is ready to scream, has that lingering anxious feeling in her belly she can't get rid of from a day of too much. Too much tragedy, too many breakdowns, and too little time between. She desperately needs a break, more than a few minutes to regroup, but that wasn't in the cards. As a result she has a short fuse and is seconds away from blowing up on anyone who gets in her path, which is not conducive to the plans she was supposed to have.

Tonight was supposed to be dinner with her best friend, Mary Margaret, to go over the guestlist for her wedding now that the RSVP deadline is over, but she can't, not tonight, not when she's feeling like this. All it takes is a simple text and the meeting is rescheduled to Wednesday like it's no bother. She's grateful her friend is so accommodating, and it takes a little of the edge off of the rage that's threatening to swallow her.

She gets into the elevator alone, and sighs out into the empty space, trying to expel all of the negativity and tension. When she exits, she sees Robin again. He looks at her sheepishly as they trade places, admitting that he forgot his keys upstairs. If she was in a better mood she'd tease him for it, but as is, she gives a little laugh and walks off to her car.

By the time Henry gets home from his swim lessons she's feeling a lot better, the last of the dark clouds disappearing as her son regales her with a dramatic tale of his day.

* * *

She meets with Mary Margaret on Wednesday and she thanks god she cancelled on Monday when Mary drops a bombshell right at the start of dinner.

"I don't know how to tell you this, but my father invited your mother as his plus one. God, I know it's, shoot, don't worry, I can uninvite her, it's not a problem. You know I should have just done that, I'm sorry I didn't, I don't know what I was even thinking, I just wanted to talk to you about it first. Shit, I'm sorry, Regina. I should just uninvite her, right? Yeah that's what should happen, shouldn't it?"

Regina hasn't seen her mother in ten years, not since her mother scolded her in front of everyone at her husband's funeral, telling her to pull herself together as if her world hadn't just been shattered.

That had been the last straw. After years and years of abuse, Regina had snapped, finally doing as her late husband had always wanted and cut her mother out of her life. It had been a long time coming, but Cora treated it like it was temporary, just her daughter's grief-stricken hysterics. It took a year of ignoring Cora's summons for her to get the picture, even then, to this day, she still gets random voicemails reminding her what a terrible daughter she is, demanding that _she _apologize. She should have changed her number but she's weak and sentimental and wanted to keep the landline number she'd shared with Daniel. Henry's asked why they even have a landline, and in truth, they probably don't need it, but she can't seem to let go of that connection to Daniel (and her mother, but she'd never admit that).

Though apparently it's not the last connection to her mother. She thought every other connection had been severed, she doesn't live in Storybrooke anymore, doesn't even live in the same state—not that she's all that far away—but she also has no contact with anyone from their sleepy little town, except Mary Margaret. She and Mary are childhood friends, moved out to Boston together for college and never left. She knows her mother and Mary's father run in the same circles, and given that he's extremely wealthy and was single, it's not surprising to her that her mother made a move. She should have seen this coming.

But god, why did it have to be Mary's father and why _now_? Couldn't she have waited until after the wedding so Regina didn't have to see her? She's the maid of honour, but even if she weren't, she would not miss her friend's wedding, no way. Her mother has stolen enough experiences from her, she will not take this too. The easy solution is to uninvite her mother, but there are no simple solutions when it comes to Cora Mills. She'd probably still show up—she wouldn't, not if it got out she wasn't invited—but god, she would make such a big stink, would ensure everyone heard about it, then they would all know Regina can't handle her mother. She should not care about that at all, but she does, because deep down, no matter how much she fights it, she is her mother's child. Certain expectations were indoctrinated into her so hard she doesn't think she'll ever be able to shake them.

Ugh, Cora never even liked Mary Margaret, used to tell Regina all the time that Mary wasn't worth her time, so why does she feel the need to attend her wedding? She knows the answer to that, it's 'for her,' it's that she 'wants to see her daughter,' which is complete bullshit because she doesn't want to see her, she wants to criticize every aspect of her life until Regina feels about an inch tall. She's been through that time and time again, but she's been free of it for almost a decade, isn't accustomed to it like she used to be.

Fuck, this is a disaster.

"Regina," Mary asks tentatively, interrupting her thoughts, "What do you want me to do? You want me to uninvite her, right?"

That is the question, isn't it? It's only a week away, maybe it would be okay. She's not bringing Henry, she didn't want to pull him out of school so he's spending the time with his other (only) grandparents. She will protect her son from her mother if it is the last thing she does. Herself however…

She admits ruefully, "I don't know," and tries to ignore the sympathy that wells in Mary's eyes.

"You don't have to decide right now, just let me know, okay?"

That may be true, but the wedding is only six weeks away, and it's a destination wedding, in Portugal, her flight leaves in just under five weeks, she could bet her mother and Leopold's flights and accommodations are already booked.

They let the issue of her mother rest, as best they can. They talk details for a bit, setting the tables for the reception with the guest list as is, throwing in a couple of extra seats here and there just in case, she doesn't know that there will be anyone that last-minute says they are coming because it's abroad but one can never be too careful—and all the while Regina stresses about her mother. She will pick, will poke all of her weak spots (she created them all so she knows just how to hit where it hurts) and leave Regina feeling wrecked. It's not at all what she wants for her friend's wedding, for what was supposed to be a nice week away.

She has one concern though, which she voices once they've covered all the things on their list, "Will it upset your father?"

Mary Margaret loves her father dearly, and though he's always doted on her, he's not a good father. Mary sees the best in him, or tries to, but Regina knows she was at one point worried he wouldn't come. He didn't want to travel, which was ridiculous because the location is gorgeous and more importantly, his only child is getting married. She doesn't understand how he could even think for one minute about not attending.

"I… I don't know."

Then she asks another question that's been eating at her, even though she shouldn't be interested, shouldn't care at all about what goes on in the life of Cora Mills, "How long have they been together?"

It's not meant to be an accusation but Mary flushes a little as she admits, "About six months, he only told me about a month ago, and I didn't put two and two together until I started going through the RSVPs and… I wanted to tell you in person. I hope that's okay, god I'm—"

She places her hand over Mary Margaret's, stopping the anxious rambling she knows could go on forever if she let it, and smiles as she assures, "It's more than okay, I really appreciate the consideration for my feelings. You're a great friend, truly."

Her face lights up, her eyes watering, and oh no, look what Regina has started. To her relief, Mary doesn't go all sappy, just says, "Thank you."

She lets out a long sigh as she tries to think out what to do here. She's been given time but she needs to make a decision. This needs to be figured out, she cannot have it looming over her head. She knows her mother will not take kindly to being uninvited, but the real question is whether Leopold will come without her. She has a feeling he won't and she _will not_ let her unresolved mommy-issues come in the way of Mary having her father at the wedding. "I want you to have your father there, and if my mother is necessary to make that happen, then so be it. We'll make it work."

"Are you sure?"

"I am, though I'm _really _hoping he says it's not a problem and she's not coming."

"Me too, I'll see what I can do and let you know."

It's getting late and she should go pick up her son, so she bids her friend goodbye and hopes to god her mother isn't coming to the wedding.

* * *

Luck turns out not to be on her side as she steps into the office building on Friday. She gets a text from Snow White, the contact name she has set for Mary Margaret to make fun of her cheery disposition. It reads: _I'm so sorry. I tried but he won't come without her_

Her stomach drops and she keeps staring down at the words like somehow they will change, so caught up she doesn't notice her surroundings until she runs smack into Robin.

"Oh god, I'm sorry," she stutters out as she looks up to find him smiling down at her and _wow_.

He's in grey today, which is definitely his colour, it brings out the blue in those eyes she's rather fond of. She's momentarily distracted as he tells her, "It's okay, no harm done."

She's still standing far too close to him, not as close as when she collided with him, but closer than she's ever been before. There's something intoxicating about being this close and she's almost sad when the elevator door opens and the moment is broken. After they step inside he hits both six and eight—he's only been in the elevator with her twice, and someone else wouldn't have remembered where she was going, but he did, and she finds it oddly touching. He might just be observant, but perhaps he's intrigued by her as well.

It's only when her phone vibrates again she remembers what had her in such a state she ran into Robin. It all rushes back, and fuck, she is a goddamn therapist but the thought of seeing her mother has her pulse racing, throat constricting and palms going sweaty. _She_ of all people should be able to keep it together, but she can't.

Her sudden change in mood must be obvious because Robin asks, "Are you okay?" and she nods though it's not true.

He doesn't let it go like he should, asks if she's sure about that and no, she's not, but she's saved by the elevator door opening. She says, "Really, I'm fine," with her eyes looking out and not at him, as she walks out, rushing off to her office without ever looking back.

She's in no state to do her work, so as soon as she's in her office she begins a meditation, annoyed by the thoughts of her mother that won't stop popping up. Eventually, she is able to keep the thoughts at bay, to enter a true meditation, and she soaks in the serenity of it until it's time to see her first client.

* * *

Somehow, she manages to cross paths with Robin again as she's heading out to grab lunch from Granny's, a cute little diner across the street. The elevator opens to him and a couple others going down, and they smile at each other but say nothing.

She's content to walk away, but Robin calls out to her, a hand landing gently on her arm, but not holding her, "Wait, um, I'm sorry to pry and do feel free to tell me to shove it, but are you alright?"

She turns to him and nods subtly. She's not sure if he missed it or he's just pressing on, "This morning, you seemed rather upset… I do hope whatever was troubling you has been resolved."

If only. While that's sweet of him to inquire, the mention of it has her gut twisting, which she ignores in favour of a terse, "No, but it will in time."

He lets it go, thank god, changing the subject by asking, "Can I bother you with another question then?" She nods, "Where's a good lunch spot around here? I've been terribly lazy when it comes to packing my lunch."

They are in a good neighbourhood for that, and she tells him as much, gives him details about some of the better spots, where to get the best sushi within walking distance, best pad thai, best salad, best burger, before confessing that her all time favourite place is Granny's diner. The food isn't that spectacular, not that it's bad, it's just solidly good, not great, but it's the atmosphere that attracts her, has her coming back again and again.

He asks if that's where she was headed and when she confirms so, he seeks and is granted her permission to accompany her over. In their quick walk across the street and over one, she learns that he's doesn't just work for No Shame, he's the founder, something that leads her to have more questions for him, which go unanswered once they enter because she pre-ordered take out and he's dining in.

Granny watches them enter, eyeing over Robin with an arched brow and a smug look. Regina shakes her head as she grabs the bag, knowing Granny is biting back a comment she'll hear about the next time she comes in. Granny has the wrong idea though, well, sort of, and she knows she'll be pressed for details she can't provide, and that Robin is about to get grilled and sussed out by the older woman.

Robin takes a seat on one of the stools to peruse the menu, while she settles up, and she's half tempted to sit down beside him and eat her meal there, but he's a near stranger and inviting herself to eat with him is definitely a step too far. So instead she bids him goodbye as he promises to let her know what he thinks of her recommendation.

If she's smiling as she exits at the thought of seeing him again so he can report that to her, well, she's allowed. She will use whatever tools are at her disposal to distract her from the shit show that's coming.

* * *

Henry has a sleepover on Saturday night, and she can't be alone with her thoughts anymore, so she goes out for a drink with her coworker, Mal, and her friends. Mal is by far her closest coworker, but she wouldn't say that they are close. They rarely hang out outside of the office unless it's for an after work drink to bitch. Mal has a much more active and exciting social life, while Regina has a son to take care of. Mal likes to let loose, which she often suggests would do Regina a world of good. Though she's never really agreed, having suffered for two days after attending Mal's thirty-fifth birthday four years ago, she accepted tonight's invitation thinking this time loosening up with Mal and her friends may be exactly what she needs.

They are joined by Mal's friends, Ursula and Cruella. She's only met them a couple of times, but each meeting with Cruella was memorable. God, can that woman ever drink, even more so than Mal. So it's perhaps not a surprise that by eleven thirty she is quite drunk, having had round after round of free Martinis from men Cruella chats up for the sole purpose of getting a free drink.

The alcohol loosens her tongue, has her laughing and joining in on scoping out the bars other patrons. They create elaborate backstories for the men and women sitting alone at the bar, take bets on who will go home with each other, with Mal claiming the silver fox they've decided is a recent divorcee on the prowl for herself, making them all laugh and egg her on.

It's a good night, she's having a lot of fun, and this is how her vacation was supposed to go, drinking and laughing with friends, not being torn down by her bitch of a mother. But she's not thinking about that tonight, tonight is to have fun.

To keep it that way, she urges Mal to go over and chat up the silver fox. Mal slips her hair over shoulder, winks at the group and strides over like she owns the room. Regina has never seen someone ooze as much confidence as Mal does, and she wishes she had a bit more of that. Professionally she can dominate a room, and she used to be a bold and audacious flirt, but she's so out of practice she wouldn't even know where to start.

She grins as Mal saddles up beside the guy, her hand touching his arm as she leans in close.

"Well darling, we've lost Mal for the night," Cruella says as the man smiles and gestures for Mal to take the stool beside him. "Such a pity."

It's way past her usual bedtime, and she briefly considers going home, but then Cruella snags another lonely man and a new drink appears in front of her. Maybe she'll go after this one…

She doesn't, ends up going out dancing with Cruella after Ursula bows out. They are at a salsa club and she loves it. Cruella's skills are limited, but Regina has years of training under her belt and muscle memory starts to kick in around the second song. She's flushed, breathless and sweaty as they take a break to grab a drink, a water for her this time. They take a spot at the bar to rest, and she giggles as the two men they were dancing with try to get them to come back to their hotel room, which is not happening.

"We have to do this again," Cruella drawls and she nods in agreement. "Darling, I don't know where you've been hiding those hips, but you need to show of those _moves _more often. It's a crime to keep that skill all locked up."

She laughs, revealing, "I haven't danced in years, I think the last time was when I went to Spain with a friend after her engagement to a complete jerk ended and she was convinced she was going to end up as an old maid."

"Did she?"

"Did she what?"

"End up as an old maid? It's not a bad life."

She snickers, "Well, one, she's a year younger than I am and I would not consider myself old enough for spinsterhood, and also she's getting married June fifth."

"Hate to break it to ya, darling, but you are too old for a spinster, over twenty-six is a thornback."

"What the hell is a thornback?"

Cruella shrugs, "Who knows? I read it somewhere, but who wants to be tied down, anyway? I can have sex with whomever I want, can kick anyone who snores out of my bed. I have my own space, any messes are mine and no one is judging me for them. I honestly don't know how people get married, I need my alone time. Too much time with other people drives me insane."

"I loved being married, though there were some little annoyances you have to live with. My husband never ever put his laundry away, it drove me bananas. How hard is it to put the dirty clothes in the hamper? My god."

Cruella eyes her curiously, "You're a divorcée?"

"Widow, actually."

"Well, that's shit, isn't it?"

She nods, "Yeah, it was a long time ago but yes, it's shit."

"So, who are you picking up at this wedding?"

She snorts, Cruella's comment having the desired effect of breaking the mood. "God, no one. Unless there's someone random from the resort, but that's not really my style."

Well, except that one time, but she tries to black that out.

"Oh, Resort? Destination wedding?"

"Mm-hmm," she confirms with a nod. "Faro, Portugal."

"Ooh, nice. Any chance you need a plus one? I'm sure I could get myself a great deal."

That's probably true because Cruella's a travel agent, but, "Sorry to disappoint, but no. Though, god, if I had a plus one that might get my mother off of my back."

"How so?"

She ends up telling an abridged version of her tumultuous relationship with her mother and Cruella offers up her brother as an option when it becomes clear bringing a woman would only add to her mother's ire.

"Seriously, he's rich, decent looking, he's a bit of a jerk but can schmooze well."

"Sounds like my mother would love him," she remarks dryly, which doesn't deter Cruella, and somehow she's answering how long she's there for, giving her complete itinerary and agreeing Cruella can ask her brother if he wants to go. It's outrageous, but Cruella makes it sound so easy and it really would take a lot of the pressure off of her. Cora would want to know all about the man in her life, would direct her criticism at him—and by extension Regina, but she doesn't know or care about Isaac so it wouldn't hurt like her mother's criticism of Daniel had.

It's a pretty foolproof plan, one that they flesh out as they split a cab home, so much so that she texts Mary Margaret at three am asking if she can bring a guest. As she collapses into her bed she revels in the brilliance of this solution.

* * *

She wakes up to a friend request from Isaac Heller and she goes to delete it because she doesn't know an Isaac, then it hits her.

Good god, that was a stupid idea, and how desperate must he think she is? It's super embarrassing, and she only accepts his friend request so she can message him and let him know she will not be needing his help.

She opens his profile to do just that and stops dead in her tracks when she realizes he is wearing a Make America Great Again shirt in his profile picture. Fuck no! How on earth did Cruella think that would be acceptable to her? She starts going through his profile, growing more enraged the more she scrolls. He is the epitome of white male privilege, entitled and ignorant, oh and also a fucking racist. She has to close his profile before she loses her mind. What the fuck is wrong with Cruella?

She doesn't give a shit that Cruella's probably not up yet and calls her. It takes two calls for her to answer and her only justification is, "I told you he was an asshole," which is true but she neglected to mention some key points. After she reams her out for a bit, Cruella says, "Whatever, I owe ya one," and hangs up.

Well, she certainly dodged a bullet there. What a stupid idea that was, she can't bring a fake to the wedding, that's ridiculous.

Of course Mary Margaret doesn't see it that way, had answered her text asking if she could bring someone with a vehement yes and declaration of what a great plan that was.

Mary Margaret probably thinks that it's the start of some epic romance, has been a fan of unconventional beginnings since she met David, in Regina's hotel room. Mary Margaret had taken one look at him and decided it didn't matter that her best friend had clearly slept with him the night before, she wanted him.

In the start, Regina didn't think it would work out, they'd all met in Mexico but he lived and worked in New York. He and Mary flirted the rest of the trip but didn't even kiss—the lingering awkwardness of you fucked my best friend in last five days effectively put the brakes on any sort of physical affection. They did keep in touch, growing closer and closer, only seeing each other once when Mary went up for a weekend. By then, he had a girlfriend, and Mary was devastated when he got engaged to Kathryn two years later.

She told Regina she was in love with him, and that he was going to be the one that got away, and though it wasn't the best for poor Kathryn, she convinced Mary Margaret to tell him how she felt—and they've been together ever since.

But a fake date is not how Regina is going to find her next partner, and she rejects all of Mary's suggestions of who she could bring. The whole idea is nonsensical, but she can't seem to get Mary Margaret to realize that.

Even if she was considering it, all of David's friends are a hard pass, as are all the other suggestions Mary gives her.

The guy would have to be rich, handsome, in a good job, also known as having every reason not to attend a random wedding with a woman they barely or don't know. The type of men who would jump at a free trip to Portugal are not the kind of men that would impress her mother.

She's not doing it anyway so should put the idea to bed, despite Mary Margaret's enthusiasm. It's silly, the kind of thing you only agree to when you are drunk and not something to be actually considered.

It takes a while, but she finally gets Mary Margaret to give up on it, or so she thinks.

* * *

She sees Robin on her way into the building on Monday. Now he is the kind of man her mother would love, minus that his charity does work with addicts, of course.

He must hear her coming and recognize her footfalls because he holds the door without asking, and when she steps in six is already pressed.

"Good Morning, Regina," he greets, and she smiles as she offers a good morning of her own.

"Did you have a good weekend?" he asks, and she snickers as she thinks over that absurd plan she and Cruella drunkenly came up with.

"It was certainly something," is how she answers.

"Now that sounds like there's a story there." There is, but the elevator door opens and he sighs, "Well, guess that's that, maybe I'll catch you at lunch."

While that would be nice, she shakes her head, stepping out slightly to keep the door open, "I'm out after eleven actually. I'm supporting a client through a police investigation."

"Oh, well, good luck with that."

"Thanks, I'll need it." She smiles, bids him a good day and steps out, letting the door shut behind her.

He really would be the perfect guy if she was doing that, but she's not. It would ruin any shot she had with him; he'd think she's insane, and rightly so because it is an insane idea. Why is she even considering it? She dismissed it already, she needs to stop thinking about it.

But she doesn't, and on her way back, she thinks over how her client detailed to the police, all of the horrific, abusive things their ex said to them, which morphs into all the things her mother will say to her, and how much easier it would be with a buffer—a handsome man to distract her mother.

It is crazy, but dealing with her requires thinking outside of the box. It's not like he would ever say yes, no one in their right mind would say yes to that—case in point, Isaac Heller. Maybe if she humiliates herself with Robin she can let this go and start figuring out something else to make her mother's presence at the wedding less hellish.

Yes, she's seen Robin off and on in the elevator, but surely he'd avoid being alone with her after that, solving any awkwardness. If not, she could vary her routine a bit, could linger a little longer at home, have the cup coffee she has to procrastinate starting work at home instead of at the office, and start working as soon as she arrives. It's a bad habit she should break anyway. She was so used to waiting the five minutes for the pot to brew that when they got the Keurig, she started dawdling in the kitchen to avoid starting.

She's not going to ask him, that's crazy. Oh, and look at her using derogatory ableist language in her thoughts. How many crazies and insanes have popped into her thoughts today? They aren't terms she ever uses in her day to day life, no, but apparently she uses them to berate herself with, like that's somehow better. It's not, not at all, it's her goddamn mother in her head again influencing how she thinks, it's from all those times she told Regina she was acting insane, that she was crazy. She knows better than to indulge it. At the very least, if she's going to pick herself apart, she can use better language.

God, she's already thinking erratically, she doesn't need to add acting erratically into the mix. She's not going to ask him, she's not.

Then she does.


	2. Chapter 2

She's lost her mind, it's the only explanation for why she's heading up to Robin's office at the end of the day, set to ask him to agree to her outrageous proposal. She tells herself he probably won't even be at his office, and if he's not, it's a sign and she needs to let this go.

As the doors open she realizes she hasn't been up to eight since they took over, and it's completely different. The elevator opens to an open and inviting waiting room, comfortable chairs along the sage green walls, natural wood flooring, with smart looking information posters on the walls, that somehow match perfectly with all the decor and a desk that she assumes will house their receptionist once they open. She's taking it all in when Robin strides out of his office, startling a little at her presence but giving her a warm smile.

"Regina, what a pleasant surprise, what can I do for you?"

This is it, she swallows heavily, mentally preparing herself, then chickens out, "I… um, when are you opening?"

He's not going to have time for her irrational proposal, he's opening a new non-profit for god's sake.

"Friday, then the grand opening is in two weeks, so we can work out all the kinks. You should come, we're providing a lunch and an overview of what we're doing, hoping to build relationships and work in concert with other organizations."

"Yes, I'd love to, that sounds lovely. Do you have an official invite I could bring down? Assuming you wouldn't mind others from my office attending."

"We do, and that would be great, the more the merrier." He looks around, then gestures for her to follow him as he turns and heads back toward his office. "We sent out an email but our listserv is a bit lacking. I got the handouts today and the plan was to distribute them tomorrow, then I have posters that will be up in the lobby, if you guys want one."

She knows enough about their office policies, even though she tries like hell to stay out of them, to know that that is not something they would put up. They have very strict rules about what can and cannot be displayed, and while she understands the reason why, it's annoying every time she faces red tape to get local shelter's resources up.

"I won't take a poster, it would just get thrown out or put in the back of a cabinet never to be seen again."

"Oh, is that so?" he asks with a grin, thankfully finding the humour and not getting offended.

She takes in the nameplate on his door, _Robin Locksley, Founder, Executive Director, _and offers up, "Yeah, a word of advice, policies can be good, but don't have a policy for everything such that it's impossible to do anything without checking _the policy_."

"Ah, one of those, bogged down in policies and procedures. That's not really my style."

Oh, he has no idea, but she did not come here to bitch about that, something she and Mal do frequently. She looks around his office, and it's not at all what she expected for an ED. It's small, not tiny, but there's really only space for his desk and the couch over in the corner.

"What is your style?"

"Honestly, I'm still figuring that out. All I really know is that I am not better than anyone else who works here. It's really important to me to be accessible, to learn from everyone and their experiences and that we grow together."

That sounds incredible, and she hopes he can do it, expresses that as he passes her a few copies of the formal invitation to _No Shame_'s grand opening.

"I hope so, too. I'm not stupid enough to think it won't have its challenges, but I'm hopeful." He spies something and grimaces, it's the time, she realizes, as she follows his gaze over to the clock on the wall.

"I'm sorry, but was that what you needed? I have to be out of here in ten minutes."

Okay, there goes any chance of stalling.

"No, um, it wasn't, I…" she's insane for doing this, fuck no, not that, she's devoid of all common sense, and ugh. "I was wondering… oh god, this was stupid, just forget about it."

He shakes his head, "No, what is it?"

Her cheeks flush with embarrassment as she stutters out, "Seriously, it was crazy—" _dammit_, "—I should, um, let you get going, sorry."

God, this was so stupid. What was she thinking?

He reaches out for her, a hand settling on her arm, touching but not grasping. "Regina, what were you going to ask me? You can ask me anything."

She feels her cheeks flush even harder, and she purposefully looks down at the floor as she rushes through her mortifying confession. "I was going to ask you to be my, uh, fake boyfriend for a wedding, but it's ridiculous so…"

He chuckles, "That is not at all what I was expecting."

At that she looks up at him, frowning as she asks (and changes the subject), "What were you expecting?"

"Not that." He smirks, then asks far too casually, "When's this wedding?"

Shoot, her lame attempt to distract away from her humiliation didn't work. She owes it to him to answer his questions after asking _that_ of him, "June fifth."

"Well," he starts, leaning in conspiratorially, clearly enjoying getting a rise out of her, "I _am_ free that day."

God, this is humiliating, and she should just leave, but she can shut this down another way (she hopes), "Well, it's in Portugal, so it's a bit more of a commitment."

He grins, still teasing her, "You know, I have always wanted to go to Portugal, the beaches are gorgeous."

Yes, they are but, "Okay, you can quit making fun of me and go home now."

His face twists into an adorable frown, "I wasn't making fun of you." She narrows her eyes because yes, he was, so he changes his tune, "Okay, there was a bit of good-natured teasing. In all seriousness, I'll admit it's unorthodox, and not something I ever expected, but I will need a vacation after this month. I've been practically commanded to take one in June by my closest friends, some time on a beach sounds like a lovely break, with the added bonus of helping someone out."

Okay, he has to be humouring her, that's the only explanation. "You can't be serious."

"I'm not saying yes, _yet_. I don't know you well enough to know if spending a week together is something I could commit to. And I'm terribly sorry, but I do have to go," He starts to lead her out of his office and back toward the elevator, "but let's talk more about this. How about over dinner?"

She nods a bit dumbstruck, "Okay…"

"Friday night?"

She'll have to find someone to look after Henry but she's certain Mary Margaret would jump at the chance if she knew why Regina needed a sitter. "Yeah, I can do Friday."

"Awesome. Why don't you give me your number and I'll text you details once I figure them out?"

She feels the corners of her mouth start to turn as she takes his phone from him and steps into the elevator. "Sounds good."

He hits one and she reaches across to hit six, still needing to grab her stuff from her office. It's a good thing Henry's grandparents pick him up on Mondays and take him to his swim lessons because she's going home far later than she should be.

Robin tells her, "See you Friday," as she exits onto her floor, and she smiles softly as she echoes the sentiment.

He's not going to go for it, but god was he ever the perfect person to ask. Somehow he made her feel like it wasn't a completely asinine request, that she shouldn't be embarrassed for asking. He's a good guy, she's always thought as much, but this has just confirmed it.

And hey, she gets a dinner with a great guy out of it all, that was well worth the fleeting embarrassment he somehow managed to cool. She's lost any shot with him because of it, but it wouldn't have worked out anyway, so maybe this is better.

* * *

She can't believe she's doing this, would have cancelled if it weren't for Mary Margaret's insistence that she give it a chance. She's a ball of nerves as she makes her way to this… not quite date (what does one even call this encounter? She doesn't know, that's for sure). She'd nearly talked herself out of it when Robin texted her the options, reminding herself, perhaps unnecessarily, that this would preclude any romantic future with her (because let's be honest, that ship already sailed when she proposed this ridiculous plan—and it's not like she's looking for someone anyway). If Mary hadn't been over when he'd suggested restaurants she's certain this would have ended already and she wouldn't be in this mortifying situation.

She felt almost normal when she was getting ready, had managed to trick herself into treating this like a real date before the reality set in. It wasn't hard, because she is so attracted to him, but that can never be, not if they are going to do this—which they won't, it will never work out, he's not going to agree to something _this irrational_, he won't, and if he does, well… he's definitely not the man for her, and maybe she can put this silly crush to bed.

She's in a white wrap dress, low cut and flattering, one that she realizes too late she's wearing as a 'fuck you' to her mother, who won't leave her thoughts and always criticized her for wearing white, despite how great it looks when she's tanned—which admittedly isn't now, but it's still a good look. She bronzes well, always has, and it's one of the few things her mother never sullied for her despite the explicit racism that came with Cora's insults of her tanned skin.

She thinks Robin will like the cleavage she has in this dress, then reminds herself of what this is, and that she shouldn't have put in this much effort. It doesn't matter if she knocks his socks off, she ruined any chance of him ever being interested when she opened her mouth and dropped her problems on him, asking him to be the solution.

If she could go back and undo what she asked, she would, because it's unfair how good he looks tonight. He's waiting for her out front of the restaurant, grabs the door for her and escorts her in with a friendly greeting. As soon as he gives his name they are ushered to their seats, which gives her ample time to check him out. He's dressed down, in a hot leather jacket, a grey button-up, and dark jeans that show off his ass. He looks delectable, good enough to eat, his tempting blue eyes and smile drawing her in, even though that's never going to happen.

She takes her eyes off of him to pass her jacket to the maître d' and takes in the restaurant because she needs to stop the blatant ogling now that he can see her. She has heard of this place before, but she's never been in, it's a bit too upscale for her dinners with Henry, which essentially consist of burger joints, Italian places that serve pizza and occasionally Thai food. This is a date spot, that much was always clear to her, and it's made more apparent by the flowers on the table and the way they are seated in the corner together rather than across from each other.

She flips through the drink menu as Robin asks her what she thinks and she admits she's never been before.

"Oh, that's a shame," he remarks as she eyes the wine list, spying her favourite wine, that's sadly only available by the bottle and not the glass. "It's one of my favourite spots. I haven't been in ages, though."

The words come out of her mouth before she really thinks them through, "Oh, when's the last time you were here?"

She looks up in time to see him grimace and realizes too late that she's most likely asking him about another date. "It was with my wife actually."

He's _married?!_ Why _the fuck_ is he here with her? This is so fucked up. What was he even… god, what the hell?

She glances down to his hand and he's not wearing a ring. Did he take it off? Is this some sort of weird ploy to get her to have an affair with him? What was she thinking? No one normal agrees to this, she should have known better. Shit, how is she going to get herself out of this?

She's been silent for too long so she stutters out dumbly, "You're… you're _married_?"

"Oh, I… not anymore. My wife… she, um… she died."

Okay, fuck, so no, she's just an asshole for assuming the worst. It took her years to transition to calling Daniel her late husband, it sounded and felt wrong because he was very much still her husband even though he was gone.

"I'm so sorry," she tells him, clasping his hand in hers and giving it a soft squeeze.

"Not exactly ideal first date talk, is it?" he says, shaking his head ruefully.

And maybe not but, "I lost my husband, too."

His mouth opens, likely to say something sympathetic, but their waiter appears for their drink order, a welcome distraction for conversation that was going in a much too sombre direction.

She orders herself a glass of the house white, thinking of that time Mary spilled red wine all over her white dress, while she's a bit more refined, she doesn't want to risk it. Robin gets himself a whiskey coke, which means she's not the only one drinking. She drove so she can only have two, but she plans on having both to get through her humiliation.

"What's good here?" she asks Robin, changing the subject from before, which he seems to appreciate.

"I'm partial to the Chicken Parm, but the grilled salmon is also very good." That's what she was eyeballing, so decision made. "Would you want to split an appetizer, the spinach dip is incredible."

That's more calories than she was planning on consuming, but she can skip the side salad she was going to order. This can be a last night of indulgence before she starts cutting back. She's up ten pounds since the last time she saw her mother, and that's something she needs to tackle before the wedding. She was too thin then, too grief-stricken and overtired to take proper care of herself, but she has five pounds now that need to go.

"Yeah, the spinach dip sounds good."

"Oh good, I love dips, I'm always half tempted to order one just for myself, but it's a bit much."

She chuckles softly, then muses, "What other dips are there that compare to spinach dip?"

"Crab dip for starters—" okay yeah, he has her there, she loves a good crab dip "—onion dip, queso, guac, pizza dip—"

She raises a brow at that one, because she's never heard of pizza dip before, "What is that?"

"Oh, it's my favourite. Basically like a crustless pizza, all the toppings that would be in a pizza in a dip, it's heavenly."

"So exactly as it sounds then."

He snickers at that, "Yes, pretty much. So, tell me…"

Their drinks are delivered to the table and they pause to place their orders. She takes a sip of her wine, expecting Robin to ask whatever question he had, but he doesn't, just takes a sip of his own drink.

"Why'd you agree to this dinner?" she asks, because she can't figure it out. He's gorgeous and a great guy, there are far easier ways for him to get women, and he barely even knows her, so it can't be about her.

"Honestly, I'm intrigued…" oh great, that's just what she needs. "I've never been someone's fake boyfriend before, not something I ever thought of, but…" He sighs, his shoulders shrugging as those stunning blue eyes look into hers, "Since my wife died, I haven't done much of anything. Then my son started kindergarten in the fall, and I knew something had to change. Ever since I've been pursuing new opportunities, trying new things, and it's been good for me. I needed that. I haven't said yes yet, I need to know you a bit better before I commit to something like this, but I try to take the opportunities I can to help people out, and I know it must be a lot for you to seek something like this out, so if I can I want to help ease that burden."

That's… wow. "But you don't even know me."

"I'm a good judge of character," he says, pausing to take a sip of his drink, " and I like you, Regina. I don't know that it's enough to commit to spending a week together, but I suspect it will get there."

She almost thinks he's flirting with her, but he can't be, can he? "And what _exactly_ do you think is going to get it there?"

She's still a little wary because yes, he's hot as hell, but she will not trade sex for this, she's better than that.

"Well, that's the point of this date, to get to know you a bit better. Spend some time alone in your company, figure out if it's something I'd want to do more of."

She's a glutton for punishment it seems, "What's the verdict so far?"

He smirks, "I'm having a lovely time. What about for you?"

She's not entirely sure what he's asking, if she's having a good time tonight or if she's willing to spend more time with him, but the answers are the same. "I am. I'm pleasantly surprised by all of this. I really didn't think this would be something I would entertain, let alone someone else, especially someone like you."

"What do you mean?"

How does she say this without making a fool of herself? "You're so normal. I'm still half convinced that I'm being punked, and you are going to go laugh with your buddies about convincing me you'd agree to this outrageous proposal."

"Hey, look at me," he says and she raises her eyes from the tablecloth to his hypnotic blues that she is far too into, "I'm not like that. I'm here to get to know you and that's all. There are no ulterior motives here, and I'm not going to share with anyone what you asked me. Well, at least until I agree, then logistically I might have to, but I'd clear that with you first. My point is, I'm not going to be making fun of you. You are a lovely woman, you do an incredible service to the community with the work that you do, and you deserve to have things that make your life a little easier."

He's perfect, but he can't be. He must have some major flaw hiding beneath the surface, there's no other explanation. Nobody is this good. Especially not someone who hangs around with her.

"I should probably tell you a bit about my mother and what drove me to this—"

"Only if you want to, I'm not pushing."

That's sweet, but he deserves to know what he's considering getting himself into. She gets a quick break to collect her thoughts because she spies their waiter bringing over the appetizer and points it out to Robin as she figures out how to frame this. He's still a near stranger, and her mother is a subject most people in her life know nothing about. Mary knows the most, but only Daniel had known the full extent of what her mother had done to her, what she'd said, the cruelty she'd shown Regina.

They dive into the spinach dip as she ponders, and it is good, so much so that she congratulates Robin on the good call.

She finishes off the last of the wine in her glass before she starts, "My mother is the reason I'm doing this. She's… awful. We haven't seen each other in ten years, and if I had my way we'd never cross paths again. It would be best; she's terrible, toxic, I…" She's starting to stray into dangerous territory, and he doesn't need to know just how much of a mess she is over this, how her mother drives her back into self-destructive patterns to win her approval and love, which she'll never actually have, but she can't stop herself from seeking out.

She's a fucking therapist, she should be better than this.

"She's going to be at this wedding, is going to try her hardest to tear me apart, and the fact that I haven't been in a relationship since my husband died a decade ago will be her favourite criticism."

"Your mother sounds like a piece of work."

That's an understatement. "She is, and while I like to think I'll be okay facing her on my own," she fiddles with her glass, staring at the nonexistent pattern as a way to avoid his gaze as she admits, "the truth is, she will ruin my vacation if I let her. And I will let her… I just, I need someone to help keep the pressure off, and to keep me away from her."

"And that's why you are doing this?"

She's looking down now, still avoiding what she's sure is a far too pitiful expression. "It was suggested to me by a friend, and it's not something I'd normally even consider, but… I can't _not _go to this wedding, and I need to do something to help prevent the disaster she will make it."

"So damage control, I understand that, but do you really think a fake boyfriend is going to help?"

She shakes her head vehemently, finally looking at him again. "If there is one thing my mother looks down on more than anything, it's single, older women who 'wasted their potential.'"

"That's absurd."

She nods, "It is, and _she is_. I learned long ago you can't make sense of her. The way her mind works, the way she twists reality and what happened to fit her narrative that makes her always the better person and always the victim, always slighted, never in the wrong, it's a psychology that you don't want to understand."

"That's an interesting point of view… I just mean, given what you do."

"It's what I do that gave me it. The horrors I hear about from my clients, the suffering people can cause with no remorse, with no sense that it was wrong, the entitlement some people feel… You don't _want _to understand that. I never want to be in a position where I can understand and justify why an abuser did what they did, because there is no justification."

Her little tirade has taken him aback, it's obvious from his posture and expression. He wouldn't have been expecting such a reaction, but she's passionate and very opinionated when it comes to this.

"That's… I didn't think of it like that, but I get it now. Yes, I don't think we want to be understanding an abuser's point of view. It's the same with racism and sexism, we shouldn't be excusing it. I do think there's a value in understanding how people come to those viewpoints in the first place, so we can work to eradicate that, but I'm in complete agreement with that."

He's smart, she should have known given what he does, but it just makes him that much more attractive to her. "The 'where' it comes from is interesting in terms of prevention. I mean, we do what we can, but for me, it's so focused on the aftermath. I only work with victims, and as much as they think 'if only I did this,' there's nothing they could have done to prevent what happened to them…"

This is getting too heavy again, even though he seems interested. "But anyway, I unsurprisingly have a lot of thoughts about this, but let's not let my work take over the night."

"If you say so, I think it's fascinating."

"Why don't you tell me about what you do, or what you did before founding _No Shame_?"

"I was a massage therapist actually."

She furrows her brow, asking, "Really?" because she wasn't expecting that, she figured he worked for another non-profit before branching off to create his own.

"Well, until my wife died, then I was a stay at home dad until Roland went to school."

Roland, that's his son's name, she needs to remember that. "So he's four then? Or is he five now?"

"Four, he's a November baby."

She hopes this doesn't come out judgy because she asks strictly because she's curious, "And you would be able to leave him alone to do this trip?"

He shrugs, "I have people who would look after him for me. His grandmother lives with us and always tells me she can handle him if I took some time to myself, but leaving Roland is most of my hesitation. If I were unattached I probably would have agreed without this, but there's my son to think of. That said, my friends have been urging me to take a childless vacation for ages now, and I will admit the prospect is as appealing as it is scary."

She understands that completely, she was so nervous the first time she left Henry, which was only for a long weekend. She was nervous again when she left him for a week so she and Mary Margaret could go away on what became the infamous Mexico trip.

"I get that, the first time travelling without my son was hard. It is nice and refreshing to have childless time, especially as a single parent, but you miss them so much."

"How old is your son?"

Right, that hasn't come up yet. "He's ten."

She sees the light bulb go off, that Daniel died around the same time she had their son, but Robin doesn't comment, which she appreciates more than she can express.

"What's his name?"

"Henry, for my father."

"And he's… he passed as well?"

She nods, swallowing down the lump that pops into her throat. "When I was fifteen, heart attack." She leaves out the "I found him" because she does not want to go down that road, still has nightmares about it to this day.

"I'm sorry."

"What about you, your parents?"

"Mum died when I was seven. To the best of my knowledge, my father is still kicking but…"

Estranged then, my, they really are similar. It's actually kind of freaky how much they have in common. "Trust me, I get it."

He nods, quirking a brow at her, "That you would."

She smiles softly, then their food arrives, and she orders another drink, with him following suit. Then there's silence as they both dig in, broken only by his question of whether she likes it, which she does. She tries to ask him questions between bites, gets him telling an adorable story of his son's antics that makes her miss when Henry was that age. He too was vivacious and full of questions. He still has his inquisitive nature, but he's far more likely to look things up now than to ask her.

It's as she's finishing up her dinner that she asks him if there's anything he needs to know. She still has most of her wine left, and figures he can't possibly know enough to commit to a week away with her yet.

"I'll admit I didn't exactly know what to ask, so I did look some things up."

She snickers at that (more of a snort, but she'd never admit that) "Well, what did _your research _tell you to ask me?"

"I have to confess that I've forgotten most of it. I got distracted by those thirty-six questions that are supposed to guarantee love. You've heard of them, right? Otherwise, I realize I sound quite crazy."

"I have, though I'm surprised that's what you were looking at."

"I figured they were as good a start as any."

"Well, have at it then."

He reaches for his glass, chuckling as he admits, "As I said I've forgotten most of them. But I do know one was 'Do you have a secret hunch about how you will die?' because I thought it was so odd."

She can't resist teasing, "You don't?"

"You do?" he challenges with an arched brow.

"No," she says with a laugh, "I can't imagine that's all that common."

"I think not. Then the only other part I really remember is the staring into each other's eyes for four minutes, which is rather weird, especially in a restaurant."

"Well, I really don't think that's the key to love, so it doesn't much matter."

"I mean, I agree I don't think there's any secret to making that happen, it takes time and getting to know each other, which learning things about each other obviously helps."

"Right, and so what else do you need to know?"

He shakes his head, "I don't know. What I do know is I've had a great time tonight, and I enjoy your company. I can see myself a week away with you, but it's a big commitment, for both of us."

"It is, and to be clear I'd cover your flight, accommodations, this would be a free trip for you, it's the least I can do if you decide to do me this huge favour, which no pressure, I know I'm asking a lot."

"Oddly, it doesn't seem like that much, I think in part because of the vacation aspect." He smiles at her, then firms up, "But I wouldn't accept that, if I'm going, I'll pay my own way—"

"Oh no, Robin—"

"That's non-negotiable."

Well, alright then.

"Oh," he starts, "I've remembered another, and I think it's a good one for this." He looks at her and she raises her brows, urging him to go on. "Tell your life story in four minutes."

"Wow, they really like four minutes."

"Apparently so."

Right, okay, this shouldn't be too hard, but where does she even start, and is he going to time her, or how does this work? They take a minute to iron out the logistics, then she sets the timer on her phone and gets going.

She tells him about how her childhood was not exactly ideal. She had a father who loved her but was a coward, unable to stand up to her abusive, and at times, violent mother, that for a long time she thought everyone got hit when they were bad, that she'd expected a lash that first time she got in trouble at school and spent her whole time out anticipating it. She tells him how she was always a great student, loved going to school and had a drive to be the best that was half self-motivated and half from her mother, to earn that rare 'I'm proud of you' an A+ would bring. She tells him that she met Mary Margaret when she transferred to her school in grade four but hated her for how popular she was. She eventually warmed up to her, and by high school they were best friends. How she rode horses, started doing competitions but became unhealthily obsessed with winning.

He's looking at her the entire time she speaks, and it's a bit unnerving, but he's not just staring, he's reacting to what she says, nodding and grimacing at the right moments. It spurs her to keep going and a glance down at her phone tells her she needs to pick up the pace. She skips her father's death because he already knows that and she spent too much time on her childhood—it's just all very relevant to her request so she wanted to give him a full picture.

She skips another trauma, not quite ready to go there yet, settles for a vague mention of something leading her into declaring psychology as her major. How from there she became really interested in trauma and helping people through it, how by her last year she knew she wanted to be a therapist. That she met Daniel in her sophomore year of university, how her mother always hated him, and she tried not to care though it did bother her. That she did her masters in mental health counselling and Daniel proposed the summer between her first and second year. How they got married while she was doing her supervised counselling work. How it all seemed perfect and how once she'd passed the exam and got her license they'd started trying for a baby.

She skims over a bunch because she's running out of time, skips the signs of Daniel's illness, instead telling him how happy they were when they found out she was pregnant, but it was quickly overshadowed by Daniel fainting, which he swore was just from being overwhelmed by the news but she knew better.

"I…" she's starting to get choked up as she thinks about what happened to him, but her phone alarm dings, telling her that her time is up.

"You don't have to finish if you don't want to. I already feel like I know you better. Thank you for sharing."

To think she'd been worried about being too abrupt, not being able to fill those four minutes. "Thanks, it's um, old pain, but still _pain_, you know?"

He nods, "I do."

She should finish this off somehow. "He had untreated strep, led to another virus that attacked his heart, he needed a transplant. He didn't get one in time."

"I'm so sorry."

She looks into eyes that are far too understanding, and she curses the world for doing this to the both of them. "Henry was six months old when he passed, and that's when I cut my mother out. Things have been relatively good since then, Daniel's parents live in town, help out how they can, so he does have some family, just not what I would have wanted."

"Marian died the day Roland was born. What was supposed to be the happiest day of our lives was not at all. I make sure to celebrate my son's birthday, I don't want it overshadowed by that, but it's always a bittersweet occasion."

She wants to ask what happened, but she will let him get there in his own time, if at all. "That's very admirable, that has to be really hard."

"It is, but he's my whole world and that day did bring me him, so it deserves to get celebrated."

Their waiter had asked if they'd wanted another drink or dessert earlier in the middle of her life story, which they both declined, and he sets the bill down on the table with an assurance there is no rush that makes her suddenly conscious of the time. It's been just over an hour and a half, but she feels like she knows him better than she has anyone after such a short time. While she doesn't think there's truth to falling in love with those questions, they were helpful in getting her to open up, which is pretty rare.

She's having a good time, but she doesn't want to impose and knows he also has a son to get back to, so she reluctantly suggests they should get on their way and reaches for the bill. He frowns as she does, managing to grab it himself and pull out a black credit card at the same time.

"I should get this, you are the one doing me a favour."

He shakes his head, "Well first off, I haven't actually said yes. But second, I asked you to come here, this is my treat."

She's not going to argue because their waiter is headed over with the machine and she despises when couples fight over the bill like that (David and Mary Margaret do it all the time, and she's traded annoyed looks with many a server over the years). She almost wishes he'd stop treating this so much like a date because she's been curious for a while what those lips taste like, and it's easy to get swept up in a fantasy that this is a real date, one that could end up with them lip-locked, which isn't happening, sadly.

She realizes if he agrees to this, she's going to see a lot more of him, including (ideally) him in a bathing suit. God, she needs to get her attraction in check because just the thought is enough to send her reeling. That he's so easy on the eyes is perfect for this, her mother will approve, but dangerous for her libido, which can't seem to stop flaring in his presence.

After Robin settles the bill, he turns back to her and smiles in a way that makes her cheeks heat. Those dimples are her weakness. It is unfair how good looking he is.

"Should I try to do my story? I know it's fairly one-sided right now, but I could even the playing field if that helps."

She is curious but, "We can save that for the next time," she flushes hard as she realizes what she's said, "I mean, if you agree. We'd need to get to know more of each other to sell this…"

Fuck, that was stupid. She blames those dimples, she got caught up and got flirty, forgetting for a second that this isn't real.

"Let's do it," he says, and it takes a second for her to process it, that he's actually agreeing to do this with her, that this isn't some trick.

"Are you sure?"

"I am. You are right, we'll need to hang out more, but I've had an incredible time tonight, so that prospect is very appealing." He gives her this stirring once over, and she can't help but smirk as he continues, "I'm looking forward to getting to know you better, Regina."

Something about the way he says her name makes her insides flutter. He says it with such meaning, like he really cares for her, which he doesn't, he can't. She's not sure how this happened, how she turned into a silly teenager with a crush, but it should help her sell this, so at least that's something.

"We're really doing this?"

He nods, grabbing her hand in his as he says, "We are."

She gives his hand a soft squeeze as she assures, "You know you can always change your mind."

He assures her with that piercing stare that should make her uncomfortable, but instead makes her feel supported and heard, like what's being said is important. "I know that, but I'm not going to. When I commit, I commit, and I am committed to this with you, Regina, as long as you are."

All she can do is nod. She cannot believe this is actually happening, that he's agreed to do this, that she's going to have someone by her side while she faces her mother. It almost doesn't feel real, but it is. He's here, she can feel the weight of his gaze, his hand in hers. Somehow he's agreed to do this, and she's not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.


End file.
